Imperial
by TheOneAndOnlyEnigma
Summary: Imperial has come. Batman will face his most daunting challenge to date. For Imperial isn't here for money, or for power. Imperial is here to end the myth and legend known as Batman. Takes bits and pieces of the Batman comics, movies, and shows. Character death in later chapters.
1. 12:12

A/N: Batman belongs to D.C. comics. I do not own this franchise.

Imperial

* * *

Gotham First National Bank

12:12 in the afternoon.

People were coming in to grab some quick cash for lunch.

Others were there to make deposits into their accounts.

No-one knew however that the afternoon would take a drastic turn for the worse.

A white van without any windows at just that time pulled up to the bank.

A few muffled voices could be heard inside of it, and just then, all of a sudden.

Men, dressed in business suits wearing body armor and masks, armed to the teeth with automatic weapons ran up the stairs, and past the pillars into the building.

The armed men stormed the building and shot off a couple of rounds while the ringleader barked instructions.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Please remain calm. We do not wish to hurt you!"

Out of nowhere, a security guard came out. "FREEZE!"

Almost instantly the security guard was shot to pieces by an armed crook.

"By to the extent of...heroes." The ringleader went over to the rent-a-cop, and picked up his service gun, and his back-up revolver. "No, my generosity does not extend to any would-be-heroes. Rule number one, no-one do anything stupid. Rule number two, belly down and face down to the ground."

Everyone followed his instructions, except the tellers who were too busy giving up the bank's money to the crooks. Men and women were face down on the ground, children were huddled next to their mothers.

"Ringo! How are we on time?"

A crook wearing a clown mask looked at his new wristwatch. "We got ten minutes. Y'know the boss has got to be the friendliest I've ever worked with. I mean, when the Joker gave you a wristwatch, it exploded and took your arm off."

A number of crooks nodded in agreement.

"Ok, ok. Back to work we have..." The ringleader looked at his new rolex on his left hand. "Eight minutes and thirty-four seconds till the police come."

* * *

Five minutes and twenty eight minutes later.

* * *

The vaults and registers were stripped clean.

Every penny of Gotham First National Bank was gone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls we thank you for being so understanding! We bid you adieu!"

As the bank robbers were leaving, a voice rang out.

"Do you really think you are going to get away with this?"

The ringleader stopped and turned to the african-american yuppie on the floor.

"I mean if the police can't get you, the Batman will!"

The ringleader laughed, and kneeled down to the yuppie's point of view.

"If the police can't get us Batman will?" The ringleader laughed again. "That is what I am counting on!"

* * *

The armed goons went outside and saw a most disturbing view...

One hundred of Gotham's Finest had come out in full force.

"ALL OF YOU ARE UNDER ARREST! PLACE YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS!"

The ringleader turned to his partners, "Boys, we've been two timed."

He then weighed his options, and came up with two choices.

Fight and die, or surrender and live. Option two sounded a lot more better than option one.

The ringleader put down his rifle, and the other goons followed suit.

"Don't worry boys, one trial, and one insanity plea will have us in Arkham. After that we just gotta wait for the next crime lord to bust out and we can all escape." He smiled, having played this game before.

But, just before the cuffs came out, the ringleader felt a fierce, stinging pain in his left hand that felt like his entire arm was in the process of being flayed open.

One by one the crooks fell down dead, and just before the ringleader died, he took off his rolex and saw three small triangular puncture wounds in his wrist.

The ringleader swore, "Better..than..an..explosion."

He fell to the ground, and he was dead.

* * *

"In all my years, I have never seen anything like this."

Commissioner Gordon was on scene for one of the most strangest bank robberies he had ever seen, and he had seen a lot of bank robberies in his day.

But by far, this was the one that topped them. Not the Joker and Harley Quinn and their bumbling goons in the clown make-up. Or the Penguin with his arctic minions.

No, it was this! Bankrobbers falling down dead after robbing a bank.

"Commissioner Gordon, sir?"

Gordon turned to the first responding officer.

"Talk to me."

"Well sir, an anonymous tip was called in an hour before the robbery even happened! Someone wanted these crooks to be caught! But why?"

Gordon knew that this must have been a set-up.

"Sir! Come look at this."

Gordon turned to one of his beat-cops. And approached the van that was used to transport the bank robbers.

There were a couple of cops trying to pry open the back of the van, to see what was inside.

Well, they pried open the van with the jaws of life, and activated a trip wire connected to a bomb. And on the bomb was a note that said.

_Batman,_

_You deserve this!_

"GET BACK! EVERYONE GET BACK!" Gordon ordered before the van exploded into a thousand pieces of hot, metal, shrapnel.

* * *

Harvey Bullock walked over to the ambulance to see Commissioner Gordon fighting the paramedics to stay at the scene.

"Commissioner, you must get to the hospital!"

"I'm fine!" Gordon urged.

"You could possibly have a concussion!"

"I'm fine!" Gordon looked up to see Bullock.

"What do we know?"

"Do you need a minute? I mean we could do this at the hospital."

"What do we know, Harvey?"

Detective Bullock sighed. "Nothing."

Jim Gordon was silent.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. None of the crooks had any ID's, the serial numbers on the weapons were filed off, the VIN on the van was removed, and...get this. They were poisoned."

"What do you mean? Poisoned?"

Harvey grabbed an evidence bag that had a watch in it.

"This was one watch, now on the bottom were three prongs that were filled with some sort of poison. It's the same with all the other watches. What kind I don't know, I'll have the lab techs examine it."

"What about the bomb?"

"The Bomb was professionally made, and it had one purpose. Kill."

"Are there any casualties?"

"Two patrolmen are dead, three are injured with minor scratches, and one is critical."

Gordon sighed. "So what you're telling me is that, we've got no leads, two dead policemen, and what exactly?"

"Nothing, whoever did this, didn't want this to get traced back to him."

Bullock was right the person, or persons who did this, had done it, and left no evidence in their wake.

* * *

Gotham has a new problem.

Imperial has come.

There will be blood.

There will be death.

And it shall be...not chaos, but a purging.

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	2. Imperial Rises

I don't own Batman, or the intellectual properties of DC.

* * *

Wayne Manor.

It was a quiet day at Wayne Manor.

Crime, was on the down low.

There was a relative peace.

Bruce Wayne, head of Wayne Enterprises, Patriarch of the Bat Family. Was in the living room, talking to his son Damien.

"I don't see the point of it." Damien blankly said.

"I doesn't matter if you don't see the point of it. It will surely help you develop social skills. Skill in which you are lacking." Bruce responded.

Damien crossed his arms. "I don't feel comfortable with this. There are to many open variables."

Bruce sighed, he should have known that swaying Damien to enroll into private school would be difficult.

"Damien, want you to socialize with kids your own age! I want you to have a childhood!"

"It's far too late for a childhood, don't you think Father?"

"No it's not. When your grandparents died. I spent my entire childhood brooding about that night. I nearly pushed all of my friends away." Bruce sat down in a leather chair.

"That was one mistake that I do not wish to see you make, Damien."

Damien knew that his father meant well. "What would become of 'Robin'?"

"Your studies come first. Tim would take over your patrols during the week, and you can resume patrols if you wish on the weekends."

Damien frowned. "So, I'd be a part-time crimefighter. Is that what you are saying?"

"Well, for a lack of a better term, yes."

Damien was silent for a moment. He lookeed down to the floor, and was deep in thought.

He looked back to his father. "Alright, I'll try this out."

Bruce smiled. "Excellent."

"Only for a semester though. Just to feel the hang of it, and if some engagement were to be set up then I will commit for the rest of the terms."

Bruce was elated. It was only a start, but still. A start.

"Classes has already started, but being a main donator to Martha Wayne Private School has it's advantages." Bruce joked as Damien sat down with his father to pick out classes and fill out paperwork for the new school semester.

* * *

It was a beautiful day at Gotham Memorial Park.

The sky was blue, the grass was green, and children were playing in the park, on their playground.

Mason Zimmerman was done with school for the day. He was sitting on a bench, taking in the sights.

Children with their mothers. The sun was shining down. The birds chirping, singing their song to sing.

Mason would have liked to enjoy these sights, but couldn't. he could enjoy the world when 'it' was done.

He was waiting for his friend to join him.

Jacob Andrews walked up to Mason and sat down beside him.

For a while there was a relative silence.

"The bomb didn't work." Jacob bluntly said.

"I know." Mason grunted.

Jacob pulled out a newspaper with the heading, "**Two Patrolmen Lie Dead After Bank Van Explosion**."

"C'mon, Jacob. We both knew people were going to die! Why should it matter if a couple of policemen get offed?" Mason scoffed as he took the newspaper and crumpled it up.

"You dick, I was going to read the rest of that!'

Mason looked at the newspaper and awkwardly un-crumpled the newspaper and gave it back to his friend.

"Thanks." Jacob sarcastically responded.

Mason looked at his friend, "I understand your hesitations, but believe me. What we are doing will hep Gotham in the long run."

Mason looked at Jacob, who looked unsure of himself.

"Do you trust me Jacob? I can't do this without you."

Jacob looked up at Mason.

"I...I'm with you."

"Good."

Mason got up, and Jacob followed him out of the park.

"Mason, what will we do now?" Jacob asked his friend.

"Plan B. We make some new friends."

Mason Zimmerman walked out of the park with a plan already forming in his head.

* * *

Harvey Bullock was walking over to Toxicology in the Forensics Lab. While Commissioner Gordon was at home recovering. Bullock was given the reigns on this case.

He was walking into the lab, when he was approached by the head analyst and friend, Stephen Michaels.

"What do we know Stephen?" Harvey asked Stephen.

"Well.." Stephen pulled out a sheet of paper with the results. "We learned that the poison used to kill your perps was the poison from a Blue-Ringed Octopus. But, this strain of poison was...changed."

Harvey eyes raised up. "Changed how?"

"It was chemically altered somehow. Normally, the venom of a Blue-Ringed Octopus would take minutes to kill, not seconds. Whomever did this, either weaponized the toxin..."

"Or stole it from a chemical lab, that weaponizes the venom." Harvey finished as he took out cellphone to make a call. "That's good work, Stephen."

Harvey strode out of the building on his cell phone.

"Commissioner, it's Bullock. Yeah, I found a lead. Yeah, I'm going to follow up now."

Harvey got into his old jalopy. "Well we found out the poison was from a Blue-Ringed Octopus." Harvey said as he was looking through his notes.

"Michaels said that the venom was weaponized, so I'm heading back to the office to look up any companies that do that."

Harvey started his engine. "You should get some rest, I'll be fi..."

Just then...Harvey Bullock's car erupted in a fiery explosion. Harvey died instantly.

Many people encircled the flaming wreckage.

Stephen Michaels ran out to see what had happened to his friend, so he immediately called 911.

What Stephen didn't notice was a young, hooded boy calmly walk in the opposite direction, away from the explosion.

* * *

James Gordon rushed out of his car, and ran to the scene.

There he saw the blackened, charred car, and the paramedics carry out a corpse inside of a body bag.

He saw Stephen talking to a patrolman about what happened.

"Officer, I'll take over."

The Police Officer nodded, and walked off to help secure the scene.

"Michaels, what happened?"

"I heard an explosion outside of the lab. I ran out to see Harvey's car...It...He..."

Gordon put a consoling hand on Michaels' shoulder. "It's okay. Just tell me everything you told Harvey."

"Okay, I.." Stephen started.

"No. Not here. At the station. Officer Phelps!" Gordon barked.

A veteran officer walked up to the commissioner.

"Take Mr. Michaels to he Station, I want him protected at all times. Understood?"

"Yes sir!"

The officer took Stephen to his car with another officer and took him to the safety of the police station.

James Gordon walked over to his friend's body and looked over him, and sighed.

"Harvey..."

* * *

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